I Don't Need You
by puddle-of-lemonade
Summary: It was not an endeavour of a broken heart, perhaps of a mending one, but in the end, it was all about an absent heart. SiriusHarry one-shot


**Author's Note:** I got the first line of this piece from the song 'Forever and Ever' by Mew, and I wrote this story to it. I have always wanted to write a SiriusHarry story, for some reason, and so here it is. I set this in a world long after the war, in which Sirius' lover Remus perished. Harry is in his thirties and Sirius was never his godfather, but an old friend of the family.

xXx

_This can not be an endeavour of a broken heart. _

Harry spared a glance to the side at Sirius' laughing face, then down at the hand resting on the small of his back. He guessed it had been time enough, years in fact, since Remus had died. But it was still strange for Harry to see a smile, let alone a laugh from Sirius after such a long time of sorrow and a long gone war. Perhaps he should be glad, and welcome this strange affection, he mused time and again. But he knew where it was headed and how it would end – because he always knew the end before the very beginning.

_No, _Harry thought as Sirius grinned at him and he smiled back. _This is an endeavour of a mending heart._

xXx

_I don't need your love, your everything or anything you have to give._

He didn't look down when Sirius slipped his hand into his own. He tried to ignore it, but still he couldn't pull away lest he'd have to explain himself. But he couldn't do that, for fe didn't want to let go, and he didn't want to hold on either. Hesitating in indecision, Harry watched as Sirius interpreted his own answer from this – one which was false. But that smile Harry got in return showed such a simple, burning happiness that he could deny it, break it, even when the sadness swept through him, leaving guilt as debris in its wake.

_I don't need you._

xXx

_I'll kiss you sweetly, unfeelingly, but you don't know that. _

He didn't know how it had started. Sirius was the one who decided that they'd be together, but when and how, Harry was hard pressed to remember. He didn't try to anymore. But it irked him sometimes how easily they had slipped into sharing a house, a bed and a life. He didn't know whose cutlery was whose anymore. They used the same toothpaste, the same soap every day. The words 'I' and 'my' were replaced with 'we' and 'us' – in a subtle, distant way in his mind. At the end of the day, he found it was easier this way. It was easier to pretend.

_I don't need you._

xXx

_You don't need me, really_.

It had become a habit now. Mornings were passed in bed, side by side, tea and coffee in hand. Sirius had to wear glasses now, no matter how much he grumbled and misplaced them. He wasn't young anymore, Harry knew, though many forgot this as he always was young at heart. They'd share the _Daily Prophet_ – Sirius got the crosswords and comics in the back, while Harry got the rest. For a while, there'd be silence as they read, always. Sirius would smile and snigger, then bite the end of his pencil as he frowned down at the crossword. The paper would crinkle when Harry turned a page, or when he ran a finger along a line he was following. The morning light and the smell of coffee and ink would linger in their senses, sometimes long after they had left their home and parted ways to go to work.

_I don't need you._

xXx

_I'll pay no fee for this. It's not fair, I know, but nothing really is._

'I love you,' Sirius said as he took Harry into his arms. Against his neck, Harry felt lips and hot breaths brush his skin. He could do nothing but close his eyes.

'Thank you,' he murmured softly in reply, hoping Sirius wouldn't hear him. But another part of Harry wanted to know if Sirius ever wondered why he never said 'I love you' back. Maybe he took it for granted. Maybe he thought that because Harry had let him into his home, his bed and life, he'd let Sirius into his heart too. But instead, every time he heard those three words, he felt like he was losing something, bit by bit.

_I don't need you._

xXx

_I would be sorry, if I could. But in the end I can't, I won't._

In bed, Harry lay on his side, his arm tucked under his pillow. His eyes were open, and he stared across at the man a little way from him. Sirius had his back to him, and it was curved as he curled into himself slightly. There were faded scars on his back, and Harry could count each and every bump of his spine. Some things didn't change with time, and though Sirius never spoke of Azkaban, Harry could see the damage it had made. He could see it in the way Sirius adored wide, open windows, in the way he'd do anything to spend days and nights under the sky, no matter what the weather, and in the way he always made sure all the doors were not closed. But most of all, Harry could see it in the way Sirius loved with such abandon.

_I don't need you, though I would if I could._

xXx

When Harry left, he did so without a word or a note. He didn't say goodbye. He just wrote the last line of another chapter in his life entitled: _The Endeavour of an Absent Heart._


End file.
